Molly Hooper was not an adventurous person. In fact, when the new year came around, her one and only resolution was to become just that. She wanted to shed her boring trousers and jumpers and bask in the freedom of spontaneity and fun.

Of course, she quit those goals not even two weeks into January. She had entered a restaurant that sold chocolate covered crickets and Meena excitedly ordered them a batch, deciding that the new Molly would certainly be up for such a challenge.

One look at the plate and Molly almost cried.

Suffice to say she didn't eat them, and along with their journey to the bin, so too did her dreams of being adventurous go.

It was unfortunate, really. She was boring with everything. Her clothes, her makeup, her food, her work, her sex… In fact, the only time she had any sort of excitement in her life was when Sherlock showed up and needed help on a case.

But Sherlock opened an entirely new can of worms that Molly did not have the energy to ponder over. She was in week six of her "getting over Sherlock" phase (well, this was phase three, after phase one and two both failed in previous years), so she wasn't allowed to think about him unless he was in the lab.

At any rate, Molly strolled into the morgue, already blushing something fierce, her handbag shaking in her arms.

Molly had decided to be adventurous today.

Over the weekend, she had finally treated herself to a day of shopping with Meena. They spent the entire morning and afternoon walking up and down Oxford Street, Meena forcing Molly to buy items other than jumpers and trousers from Primark.

That afternoon, while fun, had been relatively uneventful. It wasn't until they passed a brand-new shop that clearly sold clothes and items of a naughtier variety, that the day took a change for the weird. While Molly had absolutely no interest in the shop, Meena dragged her in, going on and on about needing a sexy set of lingerie for her upcoming anniversary with her boyfriend.

So, Molly wandered around, feeling absolutely out of place, unsure of why anyone would want a double-sided dildo, or have a need for crotchless panties, or if a guy would ever want to wear a cock ring. And of all the weird, but pleasurable items in the store, she didn't find something that caught her eye until Meena disappeared into a fitting room.

The box was just an obnoxious and X-rated as she expected, her eyes locked on a topless blonde clad in only a pair of red panties. But, the label certainly peaked her interest.

Vibrating panties.

Suddenly, the thought of sitting at St. Bart's, completing tedious work while wearing a pair of vibrating panties, had her shivering.

Or wearing these while Sherlock speaks.

She bit her lip and grabbed a box, unable to take her eyes off of it. Molly Hooper was certainly not the type of woman to normally wear vibrating panties, especially to work.

But, she did want to be adventurous, didn't she?

She had purchased them and stuffed them into her handbag before Meena even reemerged, leaving the knowledge of her new pair of knickers to only herself.

And that brought her to that uneventful Monday morning, wearing a pair of sexy red knickers underneath her favorite dress and conservative panty hose. The remote was tucked away into her pocket, ready to activate her new toy.

She quickly settled into her desk, ready to be adventurous and have some fun, when Mike Stamford strolled in, informing her of an unplanned staff meeting. Suddenly, her confidence was out the window at the thought of her co-workers watching her red-faced antics. Molly followed her boss, her eyes on the ground, wondering why she'd ever be silly enough to buy vibrating kickers.

You're boring, Molly Hooper.

Xxx

It was right after lunch when Sherlock arrived, storming in and bickering with John about the conclusion of their most recent case. Molly sighed and shifted in her seat, trying to focus on her stack of paperwork.

"My fault? You're a bloody git, you know that?" John cried out, continuously motioning to his blackened eye.

Sherlock rolled his eyes and dropped onto a stool. "John, it's not my fault that you let him punch you. It's your own eating habits and aging. Your reflexes have deteriorated."

John growled and shut his eyes, trying to take deep breathes. When he opened them, he looked over at Molly, who was nibbling on her lip and trying not to watch.

"You deal with him. I need a break."

With that, John stormed out of the lab, leaving Sherlock to prepare his slides for the microscope. Molly sighed and signed off another form.

"You should—"

Sherlock interrupted her. "Be nicer? I'm aware. But John fails to realize that he is just as reckless as he claims me to be. Perhaps this will be a remainder."

Molly sighed and grabbed another stack of papers, for once savoring the renewed silence of the lab. She glanced over at Sherlock, who was completely focused on his work, and bit her lip.

Is this my chance? Just his cologne is making me swoon.

Molly swallowed and reached her hand into her purse, gently pressing one of three buttons on the remote. As her knickers began to silently vibrate, she held in a squeal and almost jumped out of her seat. With a glance over at Sherlock to confirm that he was undisturbed, she held in a giggle and continued to work.

The sensation was pleasant. The vibrating was by no means overbearing, and on a considerably lower level than anything she'd ever use in the comfort of her own bed. She briefly considered turning the settings up, but ultimately decided to enjoy the slow burn of the vibration, knowing the pending orgasm would be sublime.

So, she sat there, wiggling in her seat, feeling her skin turn warm and her cheeks become red. She let out a soft sigh and crossed her legs, desperately trying to focus on her papers. She never expected that the piece of clothing would distract her and yet…

She couldn't bloody focus!

The pulsing on her core was just unbearable. What she initially thought to be slow and soft was in fact torturous, causing her to squeeze the papers in her hands, both moaning softly at the feeling and hissing in frustration at the mess she was causing.

And then it happened, so quick and out of nowhere that all she could do was bite on her knuckles, watching Sherlock out of the corner of her eye to make sure he didn't notice. And as she took soft but desperate gulps of air, her heart beat recovering, her hands quick to turn the device off, she was relieved to see him still contently focused on his work.

It wasn't for another few minutes before he rose to his feet, issued Molly a goodbye, and strolled out of the room.

Finally, by herself, Molly leaned back in her chair, grinning something fierce.

I should have done that a long time ago.

Xxx

He could smell her. He could tell the minute the room shifted from the sterile, chemically induced fragrance of a laboratory, to the spicy, very womanly scent of well… Molly.

Sherlock continued to storm through the hospital, trying to get his heart to calm down. What in the bloody hell had she been doing?

As soon as John left, she was busy working, leaving the two of them to their normal work hours in silent bliss. Then, out of nowhere, she was shifting in her seat, making soft purring noises, all the while filling her room with her bloody essence!

When he finally reached the sunny London afternoon, he groaned and leaned against the edge of the building, willing his erection to go down. Not only did he not have time for thoughts of sex, but he certainly didn't have time for sexual thoughts about Molly Hooper.

In his cab ride to his flat, he promised himself that he would delete the memory that evening.

And he did revisit it that night. But instead of tossing it in a rubbish bin, he replayed it in his head. Except this time, Molly had her hand in her knickers, and he had a front row seat.

As she squirmed and moaned his name, he wanked for the first time in years.

Christ.

Why could he smell her?

Xxx

After the first time, Molly found herself quite enjoying the thrill of having an orgasm when no one knew what she was doing. She knew that the old Molly would very much frown upon her for using her knickers while at line at Tesco, or while on the Tube, or while sitting in a cab, traveling to pick up Rosie.

Perhaps she had gotten herself into a not-so-good hobby.

But when she got to enjoy the delicious body-numbing, blinding sensation of an orgasm on her very tedious commute home, she found that she didn't care.

Molly Hooper could now consider herself adventurous.

Xxx

Sherlock avoided the lab for approximately a fortnight, although he allowed himself to believe that he wasn't intentionally avoiding it, and just in fact had more pressing matters to attend to.

So, when he finally strolled back in on a Wednesday afternoon, he was extremely relieved to find Molly examining a body, and for the room to stink of chemicals and death.

Not Molly.

"Hiya, Sherlock." Molly offered with a polite smile, immediately refocusing her attention on the body in front of her.

"Molly. Good afternoon." He replied, strolling over to her desk, trying to get a peek at her autopsy list. He very desperately wanted the index finger of a left-handed man, and had surprisingly had trouble locating the limb. When he was unsatisfied with the results, he scowled.

But as he moved towards his favorite microscope, Molly's humming ringing in his ears, her handbag caught his attention. Or, to be specific, a small device with three buttons tucked into the unzipped front pocket of the bag. Curiously winning out, Sherlock nicked the device and sat on his stool.

He glanced over at Molly to ensure her attention on her work, and examined what appeared to be a remote. It was small, not more than three inches each way, and had three buttons. One was labeled with the power symbol, and the other two simply had up and down arrows.

Sherlock flipped it over a few times, running through his head what the remote could possibly control. Was it work-related? Some new electronic key to her building?

Molly continued to hum, focusing on putting the body away, as she had finished that particular autopsy. Sherlock sighed and pressed the power button, trying to figure out what the device did.

"Oh." Molly squeaked out, her humming coming to a halt. She bit her lip and pushed the body away.

He continued to focus on the remote, this time pressing the up arrow a couple of times. When he heard Molly's breath hitch and her footsteps, he quickly tucked the remote away. When he suddenly looked at her, he couldn't help the tightening sensation in his groin.

She had gotten out of her rubber gloves and was digging frantically through her purse, looking for the remote. Her cheeks had turned red, her hair stuck to her face, and…

He could smell her.

He blinked a few times, registering that information.

The remote. It controls her. She's wearing something.

Out of sheer curiously, he stuck his hand into his pocket and pressed the up arrow again, watching as Molly froze and let out another gasp, her teeth digging into her bottom lip. She continued to look frantically, leaving Sherlock both aroused and amused.

She finally gave up on searching the bag and began to look around desk, clearly hoping that it had simply fallen out. When he saw her grab onto the edge of the desk, he smirked, finally having enjoyed his fun enough.

"Are you looking for something?" He asked, watching from his stool, using his long jacket to cover his very obvious excitement.

Molly swallowed and leaned against the deck. She shook her head frantically, although her red cheeks and dilated pupils said otherwise.

"Then what are you doing over there?"

Molly let out a breathy moan and whimpered. "I thought… Maybe I… Earring?"

"You're wearing two earrings right now."

She opened her mouth to respond but let out another breathy moan. Sherlock rose to his feet and strolled over to her. He met her eyes, enjoying the dilation of her brown orbs.

"You know, Molly, vibrating knickers are a rather naughty thing to wear, especially while at work," He whispered, enjoying the widening of her eyes as soon as the words escaped his lips.

She swallowed and held onto the desk, shaking her head. "I don't… What are you…"

Sherlock just smirked and held up the remote, almost coming in his pants as her mouth dropped open at the sight.

"You shouldn't leave such important items out in the open, Molly. Someone might get ahold of it and have… bad intentions."

He pressed the up arrow again, watching as her knees shook and almost gave out. She let out another breathy gasp and cried out, shaking as the orgasm overtook her body. Sherlock watched on, his own knuckles white, as he desperately prayed that he wouldn't make a mess in his trousers.

As the pleasure subsided, Molly kept her head down, refusing to meet Sherlock's gaze. She let out another yelp, unable to take the continued sensation on her needy core.

"Sherlock… Please…" She gasped out, finally looking up at him.

He grunted and took another step towards her, letting their knees touch. He placed his finger under her chin, raising her face to meet her eyes. Then, with a mischievous glint, he pressed the up arrow again, watching as her mouth open and she let out another beautiful cry.

"Sherlock!" She managed to sob out, holding onto his firm forearm for support as her entire body shook.

When she finally stopped convulsing, Sherlock finally appeased her and turned the device off, watching as she took another desperate breath of air. He met her eyes again, feeling as needy as she looked.

"Sherlock…" She stuttered out, her cheeks red, her eyes wide.

He took another step forward and grunted.

"Molly, you smell absolutely wonderful."

And with that, he disappeared out of the lab, his cock angry in his trousers.

Molly, still in the lab, slid onto the cold floor, her mind reeling.

Well. That was worth it.

The End.

Or is it?